


Welcome back, Commander! It's been far too long!

by Rosencrantz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Mentioned Ana Amari, Mentioned Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Mentioned Torbjörn Lindholm, Tea, getting the team back together, mentioned Widowmaker - Freeform, previous Established Relationship, true tales of how they make budweiser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/pseuds/Rosencrantz
Summary: Two old men make out and happily admit they missed each other.ORWinston gets the team back together and Reinhardt can't believe his good luck.





	Welcome back, Commander! It's been far too long!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amatie1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatie1/gifts).



> I went on a tour of a Budweiser brewery and they were really proud of what they do to that beer and hinted they had plans to go even further down the rabbithole. 
> 
> I offered this pairing by being intrigued by its existence and I'm very happy you prompted for it, thank you!
> 
> Thank you to my three tiers of betas, Rauv, Leggystarscream, and Vali!
> 
> Have a great exchange!

* * *

"Winston! You're looking magnificent!" yelled Reinhardt, pulling the great ape up into a hug. 

"Oh! You're looking… gosh. You look well. I've missed you, Reinhardt," said Winston, embracing Reinhardt back in a equally strong hug. 

"You've met Brigitte, yes! Torbjörn's little one! She is my squire," said Reinhardt, gesturing to Torbjörn's much taller daughter. She was adjusting her armour. Torbjörn had gifted her with it as she and Reinhardt prepared to leave Germany, and Reinhardt couldn't be prouder. She looked like a knight. Not a real knight, but a _true_ knight. What they could and should have been. 

"I haven't since she was much smaller," said Winston. "Hello! Hello, it's wonderful to meet you again."

She smiled, then gave Reinhardt another _okay, we should leave_ look. They'd had the argument countless times on the flight over, about her not wanting him involved with Overwatch again. That it would just end in more tears and spilled blood.

But he couldn't resist. He was needed again! No more retirement! Heroism and glory awaited! And walking through the base, hearing Athena's voice, seeing Tracer blipping in and around, Torbjörn working on fixing-- oh my. Reinhardt realized that Winston's home was in shambles. 

"My friend, what has happened here?" he asked.

Winston adjusted his glasses. 

"The reason for our reassembly."

"Ah, we are not over communicators now - maybe now you will tell me what that is?" said Reinhardt hopefully. 

"You owe him an explanation," said Brigitte.

"I do! I owe a lot of explanations. Let's gather in the meeting room and I'll get into it. I think this is everyone who's going to show up," Winston said, gesturing at the gathered agents. Ana hugged Reinhardt's arm as she went by.

"I thought she was dead," said Reinhardt quietly to Brigitte. 

"I thought Amélie Lacroix was too. At least this sniper's not shooting at us," said Tracer, running past.

"Yet!" said Ana. 

"Ah, I missed all of this!" said Reinhardt, walking in. "If Gabe could only see us now! He'd be a happy man."

* * *

Reinhardt was a lot less happy fifteen minutes later as Winston finished his explanation of what, exactly, had led to the world needing them again.

He was leaning over on the table, chin in his hands, scrutinizing the gorilla with his one good eye. He knew Winston's heart was good and true and could be trusted to make the right choice for all of them. But he did not like this. One bit. This ghost… it sounded familiar.

Then he heard the shift of boots behind him and glanced back, nearly turning all the way around because the boots had the discourtesy to be on the wrong side of his body.

"Hey, Wilhelm," gravelled... Jack. It was Jack. Jack, who had gone awol. Had cut off all contact. Had been as good as dead.

Reinhardt had been _so worried_. He had Torbjörn and his family. Jack Morrison had no one in the world.

Ana fired a shot by Jack's head.

"Nice to see you too, Ana," said Jack.

"That's for testing me," she said.

"Yeah, well, you faked your death."

"Are none of my friends dead?" wondered Reinhardt out loud.

"I think Amélie Lacroix is sort of dead," said Tracer.

"Ah, _danke_ ," he said. "That does not cheer me."

"Commander!" said Winston, hurrying forward. "I'm so glad you got my message."

"Yeah, I did," said Jack in the same voice that made Reinhardt imagine great battles. "You did the right thing. I knew we could count on you, kid."

The other agents crowded in to talk and Reinhardt leaned back to listen, avoiding Brigitte's worried glance. Of course she was worried. Reinhardt wasn't going anywhere. Not now. That was for sure.

* * *

Things were settled. Plans were made. Nothing blew up. It was a good five hour chunk. 

After bidding Brigitte a good night, Reinhardt went on the hunt. His prey? Commander Jack Morrison. Soldier 76 now. 

He'd laid a trap earlier. Slipped away during a particularly strategic meeting (his were better--run in, hit, keep people safe), fetching a bottle of that horrible American beer that they'd perfected over the last century. He'd watched a documentary once, when he was much younger and more interested, about how the Americans had started out by using bleached wood and triple-filtered water to keep the flavour away. And then gone mad with power since.

Well, Jack loved it. 

So, Reinhardt had fetched a bottle and left it tantalizingly in Winston's fridge. He brewed himself tea while he waited. 

The trap worked. 

"Hey," said Jack as he took the beer out of the fridge. "I know this can't be on your menu," he added.

"Commander, I have missed you," said Reinhardt. "Consider that my welcome back present!" 

"You're all heart. You're taking seeing everyone again really well. I thought you might be a little… resentful before."

"What? That all my friends faked their deaths and didn't tell me?"

"Yeah," said Jack, popping the cap of his beer and taking a long drink. "That."

Reinhardt set down his mug and pulled Jack up close to him in a careful hug, he wasn't as robust as Winston. 

"My friend, just having you all back soothes any anger I might have!" 

"I missed you, Wilhelm," said Jack, hugging back, then angling his head to get another drink. He didn't try to pull away from Reinhardt's arms.

"You can call me by my first name, you know," said Reinhardt, hugging a little tighter.

"Oh, I'm not sure we should get too familiar again," said Jack. His voice was teasing.

Reinhardt looked down, blinking in confusion.

"Okay, let me try that again. I've been waiting to make that joke." 

"Oh! A joke. Very good. I don't get it," said Reinhardt. "You can explain."

"Let me finish my drink first," said Jack. "Because I'd hate for it to get warm while I was jawing." He leaned against Reinhardt's huge chest and sipped.

Reinhardt reached over to get his tea mug, careful not to get any drops on Jack. This was comfortable. Jack seemed to need it.

"Ah, my friend, you have been alone too long," said Reinhardt.

"Rein, you have _no_ idea. I've been trying to be a hero and it's crap."

"We are all heroes," said Reinhardt.

"Yeah, I know about your antics with the gangs. You're gonna get your ass killed."

"Ah! I am undefeatable! I have my hammer! My armour! My squire!" 

"I wish that were true, buddy," said Jack. He put his finished beer on the counter and pulled Reinhardt down to kiss, tasting of nothing. The curse of the beer.

"I've been very alone, Rein," said Jack. "And I missed having a good friend around."

Reinhardt set his mug down beside Jack's empty bottle. 

"Ah, Jack, I am always your good friend," he said.

* * *

They went to Reinhardt's room. The bed he'd been assigned had the better chance of holding up to Reinhardt’s plus Jack's weight. 

They had no supplies, but at least they'd had their vaccines. Reinhardt sat down heavily on the bed, pulling Jack on top of him and kissing eagerly. It had been far too long for _anything_.

Jack kissed back hard, running his fingers through Reinhardt's lion's mane of a hairdo. They were old men. One was a super soldier. One was Reinhardt. It still had the edge of when they were much younger.

Jack spread his legs over Reinhardt's thick thighs and ground down against his cock, moaning into the kiss. Reinhardt forced himself not to grip too hard as his hips thrust up to meet Jack's touch, trying to give and get as much friction as he could. 

Kissing and grinding and holding, they struggled to get out of their clothes, barely managing it halfway before time and excitement finished it for them. Reinhardt saw stars and felt a rush like pure glory as he came, Jack soon after, digging his fingers into Reinhardt's shoulders.

Reinhardt gave out a pleased, tired sigh and flopped backwards into the bed.

"Maybe… give me time. I do not want the whole trip to the room to be longer than the session!" he said. "I just need a rest."

Jack laughed and rolled over to lie in Reinhardt's arms, his own arm thrown across Reinhardt's chest.

"Hold you to that."

"It's been far too long, commander."

"Sure has. I missed you, Rein. Thanks for the beer."

"Worth every credit."


End file.
